


Bermuda Breezes

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [257]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 03:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11050047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: A cruise for two aboard the QO2.





	Bermuda Breezes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capurnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capurnia/gifts), [MissLearn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLearn/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> References:  
> [The Dune Sea](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4388405)  
> [An Indoor Rainfall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10513512)  
> [Moon gate - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_gate)  
> [Riverdance - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riverdance)  
> [Salsa (dance) - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salsa_\(dance\))  
> [Doberge cake - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doberge_cake)  
> [Nora (2000 film) - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nora_\(2000_film\))  
> [Music of Bermuda - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_of_Bermuda)  
> [Bermudian cuisine - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bermudian_cuisine)  
> [South Pacific (musical) - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Pacific_\(musical\))  
> [Bermuda's Fauna - Bermuda Online](http://www.bermuda-online.org/fauna.htm)  
> [3 Ways to Say I Love You in Irish - wikiHow](http://www.wikihow.com/Say-I-Love-You-in-Irish)  
> [You've Got to Be Carefully Taught - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/You%27ve_Got_to_Be_Carefully_Taught)  
> [Horseshoe Bay Beach Bermuda - Bermuda Attractions](https://www.bermuda-attractions.com/bermuda_00000b.htm)  
> [Kings Wharf to Horseshoe Bay - Bermuda Forum - TripAdvisor](https://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowTopic-g147255-i208-k1873372-Kings_Wharf_to_Horseshoe_Bay-Bermuda.html)  
> [Harry Belafonte – Jump In The Line (Shake, Senora) Lyrics](https://genius.com/Harry-belafonte-jump-in-the-line-shake-senora-lyrics)  
> [Richard Rodgers – You've Got to Be Carefully Taught Lyrics](https://genius.com/Richard-rodgers-youve-got-to-be-carefully-taught-lyrics)  
> [Everything You Need to Know about Horseshoe Bay Beach Bermuda](http://eatsleepcruise.com/2016/07/everything-need-know-horseshoe-bay-beach-bermuda/)
> 
> Arcadian cruises:  
> [2004 -- A Cruise for Two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1798030)  
> [2005 -- Family Cruise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1819465)  
> [2009 -- Valentine's Cruise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1819465) (my favorite Arcadia, along with [Christmas in Williamsburg (Revised)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1819465))  
> [2014 -- Fifteen Years of Bliss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1752830)

  
Image by [merryamelie@aol.com](mailto:merryamelie@aol.com) and [suechosethis@gmail.com](mailto:suechosethis@gmail.com) (Quinn's kiss) 

"Yay!" Ian cheered.

Marriage equality had come to Bermuda, which he and Quinn just found out from watching the news in their living room on Friday night.

"Ah, laddie, what a wonderful way to start the weekend," said Quinn, snuggling closer to his husband on the sofa-recliner.

"Oh, yeah," Ian said, snuggling right back. "We're already up to 22 countries with equal marriage, and now we can add another territory."

Quinn said, "We've been talking about taking another cruise this summer, darlin'." He winked, as he continued, "What do you think of going to Bermuda?"

"A celebration all around." Ian gave him a sunny grin. "The QO2 has Bermuda on its itinerary this May. How 'bout it?"

"Let's go."

* * *

Ian and Quinn stood on the deck of the QO2 ocean liner and waved at the Statue of Liberty as they sailed by. They had just left Port Liberty in Bayonne, New Jersey at 4 p.m. on Friday and were off on their cruise to Bermuda. They were already wearing Bermuda shorts and QO2 t-shirts. A hostess handed them Prickly Pear martinis, saying that it was a specialty of the island, made from local cactus juice.

They clicked glasses, both of them looking forward to tasting this exotic treat. Quinn could tell why it was so popular as soon as it hit his tastebuds. Delicious! Ian squeezed in his lime garnish to make it even more delectable.

The Quality Oceanic Line's QO2 was an old friend of theirs -- they had taken her on two cruises, in 2005 and 2014. Since it was early in the season, they'd decided to go by themselves this time, because the rest of the family couldn't make it on the week the men had negotiated the best deal with their travel agent. Lelia's junior high was still in session, and her grandparents took turns staying with her after school, while Kathy and Monty were working.

Even though they enjoyed sailing with their clan, there were many advantages to going as a couple. There was no need to participate in activities which didn't interest them. They'd have more time to spend with each other alone, which meant more time for romance. And they didn't have to worry about the Mastersons or Prentices hearing them in the stateroom next door, which was somehow worse than if neighbors did. 

When the ship's bell rang, it was time to go to the lifeboat deck for the muster. Ian snapped a picture of Quinn looking adorable with his head sticking out of an orange life jacket, with a Q on the left side and an O on the right.

After the muster, since the elevators would not be in service for a little while, they headed up the stairs to the Aloha Deck, where there was a bon voyage party. Calypso music played in the background, but they could still hear each other talk. They still had their drinks in hand and settled at a table at the starboard side of the deck, facing the open sea.

"Ah, what could be better? Me laddie by my side, an exotic drink in hand, and healthy sea air." As always, Quinn felt an exhilarating sense of freedom on the ocean that he didn't usually feel on dry land. Quinn squeaked his chair closer, so he could hug Ian.

"The perfect way to start our summer vacation," drawled Ian, leaning his head on Quinn's shoulder.

As always, embarking on a cruise was exhilarating for them.

The breeze blew their hair together, copper and chestnut, a beautiful blend to which the sun had already added lighter streaks. The condensation on his glass ended up on Quinn's fingers, and Ian liked the feeling of his herven's cool fingertips on the back of his hand.

The band began to play 'Yellow Bird', one of their favorites. They were already getting into a Bermuda state of mind. The front man sounded a bit like Harry Belafonte, one of their favorite singers. Not only did Belafonte have a marvelous voice, but he was a strong advocate for equal rights for everyone. What a wonderful way to start the cruise!

"Remember when Mom sang this song on our last Caribbean cruise?" Ian asked. "She held Lelia in her arms when we were playing on the beach, and her giggling and Mom's singing made an adorable duet." Lelia had only been a year old then, a baby made of love and sunshine.

"Remember it? I even took a picture of it," Quinn said, avuncular pride in his voice. "We've got to take a look at our albums when we get home."

Ian nodded. "We haven't done it in years. And after our vacation, we'll have a whole new set of photos to mount." He pulled out his cell phone with a mischievous grin and clicked. "Heh, the first candid shot of the cruise."

Quinn grinned back. He had been in mid-sip of his martini when Ian had taken his picture. "You got your man," he said with a wink, knowing that no one could hear their private conversation over the calypso music.

It was obviously time to head to their cabin on Boca Deck. Since they'd been able to book a last-minute deal, they had gotten a free upgrade to a suite, instead of a single-room cabin, much more luxurious than they were used to. It had a balcony, living room, a bedroom with a king-sized bed, and a more spacious restroom than they'd ever had at sea. A good thing, too, because by now, six months after their bathroom renovations, they were thoroughly spoiled by their rainfall shower and hot tub at home.

The first thing Quinn did was to open the sliding door to their balcony, to let in the brisk ocean breeze. He breathed in deeply, completely content in the Moment.

Their steward had already left their luggage in the closet, so they unpacked together, putting their clothing in dresser drawers in the bedroom, the toiletries on a shelf in the bathroom, and their all-important berry lube in a nightstand, under a couple of rolled-up socks.

They kicked off their sneakers and took off their socks, leaving them under a side table in the living room. Now they were finally more comfortable, after being on their feet most of the day standing in various lines before they could come aboard.

Quinn saw a bon voyage basket on the coffee table in the living room when he went in there to sit on the cream-colored couch. He read the note with a smile on his face:

"Have a wonderful time, fellas! Wish we could be with you.

All our love,  
Ginny and John  
Jo and Keith  
Kathy, Monty, and Lelia

When Ian came in to sit by his side, Quinn handed him the note with a smile and took him in his arms. "We have the galaxy's best family, m'lad." He gave his herven the first kiss of the cruise, one as luscious as any of the delicacies in their gift basket.

They spent a happy few minutes taking out all of the treats and making high-level trades, so that each of them got their favorites. Ian scored a little box of Guylian sea shells, some dark-chocolate Petit Ecolier cookies, and cake pops that were decorated to look like beach balls. Quinn got a package of Godiva truffles, vanilla fudge from Atlantic City, and miniature cupcakes with frosted starfish on top of blue icing. They decided to share the Cristal champagne, of course, as well as a large box of petits fours.

"Just what we need, on top of all of the four-course meals," Ian joked. "But this is awfully sweet of them, no pun intended."

Quinn gave out a rich chuckle. "Must be the one time you haven't intended a pun, darlin'." He ruffled Ian's hair. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

Ian kissed him on the chin, savoring the soft whiskery feel of it. Six o'clock shadow made for delicious nuzzling.

There was open seating at meals, so they were in no rush to get ready for dinner, and they made the most of it now.

"How 'bout christening the ship *our* way, handsome?" Ian purred, then nipped Quinn's nose.

"I like the way you think, laddie."

They sat back on the couch, Ian burrowing into his husband's side, with Quinn's arm cradling him. Slow, deep kisses led to slow, deep groans as they got totally into it. The sea air had already increased the silkiness of Quinn's hair, and Ian couldn't stop running his fingers through it, delighted that it had already started growing out for the summer. He just loved his favorite guy with long hair. Chestnut strands brushed his face with every kiss.

Even though they were Bermuda shorts, with their longer length, the skin of their lower thighs pressed together, rubbing each other enticingly as they moved in their dance.

Quinn's hand slid under Ian's t-shirt, petting his stomach tenderly. "You're a bit on the thin side, laddie, what with all of the gymnastics routines you do."

"Not for long, ma herven." Ian chuckled. "You know how much we eat on these cruises."

Quinn looked at the clock on the living-room wall. "And we've got dinner coming up soon," he said, "so why not take a shower and christen the ship at the same time?"

Ian's grin was at its most adorable. "Sounds like a plan."

They stripped off their clothes in no time, then took turns using the facilities. Now they were ready to play. Because of the cabin upgrade, they finally had a shower both of them could fit into together, and they took full advantage of it. Quinn put down a white rubber mat in the blue-tiled enclosure and pulled the curtain -- a design with blue waves tipped by white foam -- and the harmonious color combination brought fond memories of his gramma's Delft china.

Of course, the raised rainfall shower head they had at home was much more luxurious, but the men were just happy to be able to shower together, instead of having to take turns, like they'd done on all of their previous cruises. Ian turned on the water and found that at least the spray was adjustable, so he set it to the massage setting.

"Ready to play, ma braw gradh?" (my handsome love) Ian said in a deliciously provocative purr.

"That I am, me boyo," Quinn growled back, trapping his husband between his outstretched arms, palms flat against the tiles.

Ian's eyes widened as he braced himself; his lion was ready to pounce. Quinn captured his lips in a passionate kiss, pouring his love and desire into him as he groaned into Ian's mouth. Quinn took one hand off of the wall, so he could run his hand over every square inch of his laddie that he could reach.

Ian basked in the caresses of his husband, along with those of the water streaming over him. He returned Quinn's kisses with all of the love in him and felt himself hardening against his right thigh.

Quinn did, too, and pushed his thigh into Ian's erection to give him more stimulation. Their Jedi telepathy was so strong that he moved in just the rhythm he knew Ian craved. He kissed his lad all over his dripping wet face and hair, which was darkened by the water from his usual copper to a gorgeous shade of auburn. 

Pressing into Quinn's thigh felt like heaven to Ian, especially blended with all of those delicious kisses he was getting. He took Quinn's hand, which was currently petting his chest in a tender glide, and moved it to his cock, forcing himself to pull away slightly so that Quinn could wrap his hand around his erection. Quinn only paused to put a dollop of liquid soap on his palm to ease the way. Ian grunted when he felt that big hand surrounding him completely and started thrusting into the strong grip.

"That's it, laddie. Show me how much you want me," crooned Quinn. He used his fingertip to tilt Ian's chin up by the dimple, so that he was in kissing range. Just in time, because as soon as their lips met, Ian began to spurt all over his hand, cock, legs, and belly. The shower spray washed it off both of them, even before Ian stopped shaking. His lad rested against him, making Quinn glad that one hand was still braced against the tiles. He kissed the coppery spikes plastered to Ian's head by the water, as his herven burrowed into him even further.

Quinn chuckled. "The only downside of making love in the shower is that it's hard to keep your come on my hand, so I can coat me willie with it before it washes away." He gave Ian a lopsided smile.

Ian had gotten his breath back by now and grinned mischievously at him. "Yeah, and I'll bet that you just *know* that watching you do that would've made me come again."

"You know me so well, laddie mine," said Quinn, the love in his voice as audible as his Irish lilt.

"Oh, Quinn, what a wonderful way to start our vacation!" Ian said. He felt a polite nudge tap his stomach and grinned in anticipation. "Why, hello there, hot stuff," he murmured. He flicked his thumb over the glans and got a groan as his reward.

Quinn said rather breathlessly, "Do it again, lad."

And Ian was only too happy to oblige. But first, he put his hand out to feel the spray; sure enough, the water would work its magic on Quinn's cock better there. "Stand here," he said, pointing to the spot, a couple of inches away.

Quinn didn't need to be told twice. Sure enough, the spray of water over his erection was more stimulating here. He reached out to put soap on Ian's hand, placing it back on his cock, and to kiss him again for a hot moment. His other hand pressed against the tiles again, knowing he would need it for balance while Ian tantalized him.

And Ian picked up just where he'd left off, with a tender caress to Quinn's foreskin. He put his hand as far around his herven's erection as he could and hung on for the ride.

Quinn bucked into Ian's strong, gymnast's grip, loving every bit of stimulation his husband was giving him. "Lad" was all he could groan, when Ian pressed one of his favorite hot spots near the base. Ian's fingertips, combined with the pulsating massage of the shower, were driving him wild.

"Oh, yeah," Ian kept saying, as Quinn's cock pushed harder into the grip of his hand.

Quinn blindly reached for Ian's lips again, kiss after kiss until he came with a roar, the gushes flooding Ian's palm, along with the water. He held himself steady against the wall, not wanting to put weight on his herven, who had no way to support himself. "Thank you, darlin'," he rasped out, kissing the top of Ian's head, as he had after his husband's orgasm.

They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms for a heady Moment.

Ian sighed happily. "Now I remember why I love cruises so much."

"Aye, 'tis surely bliss," said Quinn lazily, brushing his fingertip tenderly over Ian's cheek. His stomach growled, and both of them chuckled.

"Sounds like it's time to get ready for dinner," Ian said, reaching for the soap.

They washed each other thoroughly, letting the spray rinse them off. Then they dried themselves with aquamarine bath sheets and brushed their teeth and shaved, using both sinks. They headed to the bedroom to get their clothing. Quinn pulled two sets of underwear and socks out of the chest of drawers, while Ian took their shirts and tuxes out of the closet. When they were dressed, the men put each other's green and blue tartan bowties on, the same ones they'd used at both of their wedding ceremonies. Quinn took the time to shine their shoes to a high gloss before they eased them on.

The little four-leaf clover and shamrock made for a unique finishing touch, as Ian put the clover on Quinn's lapel, then Quinn attached the shamrock to Ian's. Of course, they couldn't resist another kiss before they headed out the door to the dining room on the Windjammer Deck.

Luckily, the QO2 had an open-seating policy for all meals, so they didn't have to contend with a tableful of strangers, and they could eat whenever they wanted during the hours the restaurant was open. The hostess led them to a table for two by the starboard side of the ship, where a nearby window gave them a beautiful view of the nighttime ocean.

Their waitress walked over with iced water and handed them menus. They had worked up quite a hunger from their lovemaking, and everything looked delicious. Both of them chose the seafood gumbo, with a splash of rum, while Ian ordered broiled sole, and Quinn decided to try scallops in a white-wine reduction. Banana-cream pie would make a delectable dessert.

They sat back in their chairs and beamed at each other, thoroughly enjoying every minute of their vacation.

Quinn sipped his water. "Ah, the first night of our cruise. What's the entertainment?"

"A medley of songs from 'South Pacific' starts at 8 o'clock in the theater," Ian said, "then there's a comedian performing in the Starfish Lounge."

"Sounds like fun." Quinn looked at his Aldera watch, to find it was only a quarter to seven. "We should be finishing up here just in time to get good seats."

Their soup came, and they dug in happily, ravenous after their lovemaking. The touch of rum made it even tastier, and it didn't last long.

"Have a feeling we're gonna eat a lot of seafood on our trip," Ian said.

Quinn nodded. "Well, that's one kind of delicacy Bermuda is famous for, so it's a good idea to take advantage of it while we can."

"Very pragmatic of you, ma gradh." Ian raised his glass to his husband.

They gazed out over the night ocean to their side for a couple of moments in silence, except for the thrum of the ship's engines and the quiet conversations going on around them.

The waitress brought out their entrees, and they looked even better than the soup. They divvied up the scallops and the sole, with Ian poaching an extra scallop from Quinn's plate, just for the sheer joy of it. Shredded carrots swimming in coconut sauce were on the side, as well as stuffed mushrooms, to satisfy the hobbits in them. It took them much longer to finish this course, as they savored each bite.

When they were finally done, it was time for banana-cream pie and cappuccinos. Apparently, the ship's baristas were growing ever more creative, since they had shaped the foam into tiny anchors in the center of the cups. It was almost a shame to drink them. They didn't bother with the pie crust, just scooping out the luscious filling.

They lingered over their coffee, since they still had fifteen minutes until the show. Then they ambled over to the theater on the Windjammer Deck and got seats in the balcony. After checking behind him to make sure he wasn't blocking anyone, Quinn put his hand on Ian's shoulder, and they shared a loving moment before the music started.

The lights dimmed and a cast of young singers treated them to high-energy versions of classic songs from 'South Pacific': 'Some Enchanted Evening', 'I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair', and one near and dear to the professors' hearts, which the troupe had saved for last -- 'You've Got to Be Carefully Taught':

"You've got to be taught to hate and fear  
You've got to be taught from year to year  
It's got to be drummed in your dear little ear  
You've got to be carefully taught."

This is what we've been fighting against our entire lives, Quinn thought. The prejudice handed down from generation to generation. This song by Rodgers and Hammerstein from 1949 was revolutionary, because it dared to fight against hatred, specifically racial bigotry, at the time. Fortunately, 'South Pacific' was one of the legendary success stories on Broadway, and that made its crucial message even more powerful.

Quinn looked over at Ian with a fierce grin and gripped his hand in a warrior's clasp, both of which Ian returned with interest. They joined the rest of the audience in a standing ovation, then headed out to the deck for some fresh air. Strolling along in the sea breeze, with Quinn's arm around Ian keeping him warm, they relished streaming over the Atlantic Ocean, propelled by the powerful engines of the QO2.

They didn't need to talk in order to understand each other; the Living Force was strong out here, with the sea and stars surrounding them in beauty. There was no light pollution to hide the intense starlight, so it was easy to dream of Coruscant. Before they went back inside, they just had to stop for a gentle kiss worth a thousand words.

The Starfish Lounge was already crowded when they arrived for the comedian's routine, so they sat near the back. The seating arrangements consisted of loveseats and easy chairs, with tables in front of them. The men were able to get one of the last loveseats left and settled in to watch the show. A cocktail waitress brought them Dark and Stormy highballs, another Bermudian specialty, along with a bowl of banana fritters.

The comedian was pleasant, making jokes about shipboard life: the 24-hour buffet, since you obviously haven't eaten enough all day long; the skimpy bikinis that let you see more than you ever wanted to; the fierce competitiveness of the shuffleboard tournaments. The men obligingly laughed along, enjoying their drinks more than the routine.

When the show was over, they headed back to their cabin, exhausted after a day of fun. They made themselves hang up their shirts and tuxes, because they'd have to wear them again tomorrow night. The steward had already turned their comforter and top sheet down for the night, so they gratefully used the facilities and got into bed, wearing only their boxer-briefs and socks.

They curled up in each other's arms for a beautiful night's sleep.

* * *

The QO2 would spend all day Saturday at sea, so the men could take advantage of the little luxuries onboard. They decided to have a room-service breakfast and sat out on their balcony chairs with a table between them. Opting for tropical fruits, lime smoothies, and buttered crumpets, they spent a pleasant hour basking in the sunshine and reading books they'd found in the ship's library: 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' by R.A. Dick for Ian and 'Fire from Heaven' by Mary Renault for Quinn.

Ian closed his book with a sigh, saying, "How 'bout a swim, handsome?"

"Just what I was thinking, lad." Quinn's grin matched Ian's at this tiny example of their Jedi telepathy.

They walked into the bedroom to change into their trunks, emerald green for Quinn and cobalt blue for Ian. The pools on the Fiesta Deck were crowded, so they ambled over to the Spa Deck, where there were smaller pools to swim in for an additional charge. The one in the far corner was actually empty at the moment, as hard as it was for them to believe. Wasting no time, they jumped right in and started splashing away immediately. There was a ball on the terra cotta tiles surrounding the pool, so Quinn used his vast wingspan to grab it for them to play with.

They batted it back and forth, hooting and laughing all the while. They were truly in their element now: sun, water, and fun blending into a perfect Saturday morning. Then Ian put the ball on the tiles again, so they could swim lazily around the pool. They were too laid-back to race this morning, but they enjoyed doing the backstroke side by side. After they got to the edge of the pool, Quinn gave his lad a dripping wet kiss, which made their smiles even broader.

When another family came over to swim, they decided to let them have the pool to themselves, just as they'd had it for over an hour. They took turns standing under the shower spray by the steps, picked up towels from the pile nearby, and dried off as thoroughly as possible. Then they headed to deck chairs to sunbathe, stopping to get dollops of suntan lotion from a dispenser on the way.

By now, with almost twelve years of marriage under their belts, they had no qualms about coating each other's backs liberally with the lotion, reveling in every touch. They lay down on the reclining chairs, smiling when a passing hostess put raspberry iced teas on the table between them. They sipped and sunned for about half an hour, relishing their views of the noontime ocean, then used a shower at poolside to wash off the sunscreen before heading to their cabin to change.

They put on Skyhawks t-shirts and shorts, and Ian checked the living-room clock. It was time for lunch, so they strolled over to the Windjammer Deck to get a table for two. The hostess led them to the port side of the dining room, a change of pace from last night. Their table was near an ice sculpture of a swordfish, although they were further away from a window than before.

The waiter filled their water glasses and handed them menus. Both of them ordered the shrimp scampi appetizer, and they also agreed upon stuffed salmon for the main course. The mango ice cream sounded delightful for dessert.

"I've really missed swimming these past nine months. It was so good to be back in the pool today," said Quinn.

Ian nodded. "We won't have to wait much longer back home," he said. "The Northland Pool will open for the season on Memorial Day, and the Changs said we could come over and use their pool, starting in June, as long as we call first."

"We couldn't ask for better neighbors, Ian," Quinn said.

"Yes, we're very lucky to have them..." Ian paused to thank the waiter when their appetizer came.

The scampi was delectable, with just the right amount of garlic and Sauvignon Blanc. And Ian knew just the right amount to give his husband, too. He spooned five more shrimp onto Quinn's plate with an indulgent grin; he knew that Quinn's appetite after swimming was even greater than usual.

"What would you like to do after lunch?" Quinn had already eaten the five extra shrimp.

Ian said, "They're showing 'Kinsey' in the theater in about an hour. "Would you like to go?"

"It's a date," said Quinn with a sweet smile.

They had seen the movie in Manhattan with Kathy and Monty when it first came out in 2004 and been impressed with the performances, as well as its relevance to LGBT history.

Their salmon entrees came, and Quinn tucked in, undaunted by his mega-appetizer. While he ate, Ian loved to watch Quinn, because he attacked the meal with such gusto. The stuffing turned out to be a tasty blend of lobster and crabmeat, two of their favorites, and spinach with melted Havarti cheese was on the side. Even Quinn took quite a while to finish the generous portions.

Then the waiter brought them mango ice cream, which was a tropical delight, with slices of papaya and guava surrounding it.

"How refreshing," Ian said after his first bite.

Quinn nodded. "I've never had this flavor before. Next time we're at Milkshake Mike's, I'll be more adventurous."

After their last spoonfuls, they decided to use the facilities near the dining room before heading over to the theater. They got better seats than last time, because they'd arrived earlier. Quinn looked behind him and saw that he was blocking a middle-aged woman's view, so he slouched down in his chair. He didn't see her smile, but he could feel it. The film started, and they were treated to the biography of the famous sex researcher. He was certainly a magnetic figure, and Ian, in particular, felt drawn to him.

After the movie, they ambled back to their stateroom, ready for a nap. Quinn opened the balcony sliders, while Ian put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. They kicked their shoes off in a corner and settled down under the covers in bed. A couple of hours passed, with pleasant dreams of tropical beaches to delight them. No nightmares for Ian on this vacation.

Quinn awakened to the tickle of Ian's copper spikes on his chin and gave them a kiss, which woke Ian, too. The nap had refreshed them even more than the ice cream.

Ian took a look at the clock radio on the night stand. 5:08. "We'd better start getting ready for the cocktail party at five-thirty. You get a little more shut-eye, while I take a quick shower."

While Ian was in the bathroom, Quinn drowsed, appreciating the extra rest. Then he brushed his teeth, shaved, and showered in turn. They had kept the tiny charms on their tuxedos, and their shoes were still shiny, so they had less to do than yesterday. Both of them put on their tuxes, and Ian reached out to adjust his husband's bowtie, which was slightly askew.

Quinn captured and kissed Ian's fingertips, then Ian in turn captured his lips for a sweet kiss. They took their key cards off the dresser and put them in the inner pockets of their tuxes and went out the door, with Quinn making sure it was locked. They strolled to the glass elevator and went up to the Windjammer Deck, where the cocktail party was taking place. As they walked out of the elevator, a photographer was waiting to take their picture.

Everyone was dressed to the nines, and they mingled with the people surrounding them, as they were offered Banana Daiquiris by a hostess. They strolled around the reception area, frequently stopping to take hors d'ouevres from a waiter's tray. Sure enough, they had Quinn's beloved mini hotdogs, along with Swedish meatballs, tiny quiches, and spicy minced chicken in puff pastry.

After about fifteen minutes, they settled at a table with two other couples. A violinist drifted through the room, playing Mozart and Pachelbel. The men sipped their daiquiris and ate the remainder of the delicacies while listening to the music.

Ian and Quinn gave each other a slow smile when they heard the first few notes of 'Canon in D' -- it was a perennial favorite of theirs, starting on their first proper date, when Quinn had played it on the way to Larson's for a romantic dinner.

The doors opened to the main dining room, and they got on line to wait for the hostess to seat them. After about ten minutes, they were given a table near a painting of Poseidon, with his trident held high. The same waitress they'd had the night before came over with iced water, and they all greeted each other. Since they'd already had a lot of seafood, they were glad to see an old cruise standby, Beef Wellington, on the menu. Both of them ordered it, as well as salads with champagne vinaigrette dressing and tiramisu for dessert. 

"Every time we go to a restaurant with European cuisine, I always look for Beef Wellington on the menu, and I haven't seen it yet," Ian said.

Quinn took a sip of water. "'Tis true, m'lad. It's like trying to find Wiener Schnitzel after Oktoberfest. Or a merchant who'll take Republic credits on Tatooine."

They were still chuckling when the salads came out.

Ian was warming to his subject. "And what about when we go to the grocery store? As soon as I started buying mini spice cakes, they discontinued them. Remember I used to get Dark-Chocolate-Cranberry Fi-bars?" At Quinn's nod, he continued, "And that chocolate yogurt you liked?"

"You'd have a greater chance of finding the Loch Ness Monster than seeing them again." Quinn gave out a deep laugh.

Ian joined in merrily. "Well, at least we can have almost anything we want here."

"That we can, lad," said Quinn, and the waitress proved it by bringing out their main course just then.

The puff pastry was lightly done, the pate creamy, and the filet mignon medium rare. Exquisite! The chef had included polenta with Merlot sauce, so they tucked in to ambrosia. Even Quinn ate slowly to maximize the pleasure of each bite.

"What's on tap for tonight, love?" Quinn said between bites.

Ian said, "Tonight's the night of the big deck party. We'll hear the calypso band again, and there'll be dancing and games."

Quinn's eyes sparkled a deep shade of blue. "Sounds grand. We'd better change out of our monkey suits first."

His Jedi telepathy kicked in, and Ian knew that Quinn was daydreaming about the Limbo contest, which he had won at the deck party on their first cruise to Charlotte Amalie. Nothing like watching his gymnast shimmy lower and lower and lower, in a virtuoso display of skill.

Mocha lattes made the perfect accompaniment to their tiramisu. Sure enough, a playful Ian dug his spoon into Quinn's mascarpone, taking a scoop, and licking it. Quinn was in such a laid-back mood, he just let it slide and smiled at his mischievous lad.

After they finished dinner, it was time to go back to their cabins to change. They hung up their party clothes, used the facilities, and put on fresh t-shirts and shorts. A kiss invigorated them before they left for the Fiesta Deck. The party was in full swing when they arrived. The calypso band played 'The Banana Boat Song', and Ian winked at his herven; they had played this very song on their guitars when they visited the Alder Grove Nursing Home last month.

The men found an empty spot on the deck near the main swimming pool, where they could move around. They did a free-form dance, waving their arms enthusiastically and kicking their legs up. After about twenty minutes, a hostess came by with some blackberry lemonade, and they took two cups off of her tray. Ian's Force-enhanced vision enabled him to see a couple of empty chairs clear on the other side of the deck, even through the throng of revelers, so they headed over there fast.

No lemonade spills, what with their Jedi coordination, and the two cups safely landed on a table between their deck chairs. They sat down, content to sip their drinks and listen to the music and watch the dancing.

When the cruise director formed a conga line, they couldn't resist joining in. They'd finished their lemonade anyway and swayed to the beat along with the rest of the folks. The band started to play a Belafonte classic -- 'Jump in the Line':

"Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake your body line  
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake it all the time  
Work, work, work, Senora, work your body line  
Work, work, work, Senora, work it all the time

(Jump in the line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!"

Quinn was lucky enough to be behind Ian, holding his waist, and he had little doubt that his husband could give the fair Senora a run for the money, what with the way he was shimmying. His lad was definitely a Force of nature.

He was delighted when a ship's photographer snapped a photo of them; an exhilarated Ian was a grand sight to savor. After the conga line had circled the deck innumerable times, it finally broke apart, and the men decided to head back to the cabin. They barely had enough energy to stow their clothes, leaving on their boxer-brief and socks. Then they flopped down on the bed, which thankfully had been turned down by the steward. They fell asleep before they could pull up the covers.

* * *

By the time the men woke up the next morning at 8 a.m., they were in Bermuda. The QO2 was at anchor in King's Wharf, and they would have until 7 p.m. that night to explore the island. They had a quick room-service breakfast on the ship -- banana-yogurt shakes and buttered scones -- since they wanted to go ashore as soon as possible. They wore t-shirts and shorts again, along with their sneakers.

All they took with them was their duffel bags with swimsuits, towels, combs, and sunscreen, carrying their wallets, phones, and key cards in their pockets. They went down the gangplank and walked to the end of the dock, where there were buses waiting for the passengers. It would take about half an hour to get to Horseshoe Bay, one of the most beautiful beaches in the world.

Fortunately, there were changing rooms and facilities in a blue building near the bay, so they didn't have to wear their trunks all day. They spent the bus ride looking at the sights as they passed by; they traveled close to the coast, where lush vegetation and brightly colored buildings lined the road.

When they got to the bay, Quinn whistled. It was absolutely gorgeous! The rock formations alone were stunning; the crescent of pink-sand beach and aquamarine ocean made it out of this galaxy. It was truly a Sea of Light. They could play here all day.

First stop for the men was the changing rooms, where they donned their trunks and stuffed their clothing into the duffel bags. After using the facilities, they went to the rental line and paid the daily rate for use of two loungers and an umbrella. The attendant pointed them to a cobalt-blue umbrella with recliners nestling beneath it. Then they strolled out onto the sand towards their little bit o' heaven. The beach was crowded, but they had been given their recliners along the northern shore with fewer people. They settled their towels on top of the recliners, slathered sunscreen on each other, and walked hand in hand towards the shoreline.

The pink sand was as exotic as being on a different planet, but the aqua ocean reminded them of Magens Bay in St. Thomas. They waded in, and the water felt cool against their skin at first, but after a couple of minutes it seemed just right. Playing in the ocean was one of their favorite things about a cruise vacation, and they splashed and horsed around with abandon.

There were many things to play with bobbing in the waves; a few balls and frisbees, along with paddle boards and rafts. The men picked up two paddleboards, blue and green, and started kicking their way across the bay alongside each other.

"I'm getting a real kick out of our vacation," Ian said, mischief written all over his dripping-wet face.

Quinn snorted. "I can see that, m'lad." He reached out to brush a dark-copper strand of hair off of Ian's face, earning an incandescent smile.

When they got tired of the boards, the men switched to playing frisbee while they were knee-deep in the ocean. It was a sensual delight to feel the sun-warmed water lapping at their calves.

"Artoo and Sandy would love this," thought Quinn wistfully, hoping their pups were enjoying their stay with the Changs.

After Ian threw the frisbee back into the ocean, it was just the men and the water, a magical combination.

For an endless while, they floated on their backs, enjoying the sunshine on their faces and the interesting cloud formations. It felt so good, they could have swum there forever. Eventually, though, Quinn's stomach rumbled, and they headed back to shore and dried off. It was so nice to be under the shade of the beach umbrella after all of that sun.

"Would you like something from the snack bar?" asked Ian, patting Quinn's stomach.

Quinn shook his head. "I'd rather hold out for one of the nearby restaurants." He wanted to try real Bermudian cuisine, not hamburgers and fries.

True to form, Ian had done his research. "How 'bout going to the Silver Anchor for lunch? It's about half a mile away." Ian had chosen it over many other eateries in the area, based on its glowing reviews.

"Sounds grand. Let's go," Quinn said. He gave Ian a kiss while they were still beneath the relative privacy of their umbrella.

The men went to the changing rooms, rinsed off the sand, and put their street clothes back on. Hitching their duffels, they walked uphill and by the side of the road for about ten minutes, waving to fellow beachgoers along the way. First, Ian's eagle eyes spotted the glint of an anchor against the bright blue sky, then both of them saw the restaurant, which was sitting on a bluff overlooking the cove. Beautiful! And inside, the view from their table was even better -- a panoramic view of the ocean and coastline.

The waiter brought them water and menus, where they saw many exotic dishes they'd never eaten before. Both of them agreed on the fish chowder, then Quinn decided on the red snapper and Ian on codfish cakes; their entrees would come with buttered turnips on the side. While they were waiting for their food, they just sat and looked out the window at the incredible sights. The lushness and beauty of Bermuda sang in the Living Force, and both of them could feel it, especially Quinn.

The chowder arrived about ten minutes later, pleasantly rousing them from their reverie. It was as delicious as it sounded. Bite-sized pieces of today's fresh catch and vegetables swam in a creamy soup, with a touch of spiced rum. They lingered over it while watching the never-ending waves.

"Let's go back to the beach after lunch, and then have an early dinner in another nearby restaurant," Ian suggested.

Quinn nodded. "We have to be back to the ship by 7, and it's only..." he glanced at his watch, "1:22 now."

"The best thing to do after this is to relax on our recliners and watch the galaxy go by." Ian ate his last spoonful of soup.

"Sounds like a dream," said Quinn.

They had plenty of time to savor the scenery some more before their main course came. Quinn pointed out sea birds to Ian -- like the Great Kiskadee, with its distinctive ruddy feathers and yellow breast -- along with the egrets and herons. And they soared with them in spirit.

When their meal came, they thanked the waiter and told him how scrumptious everything looked. Then they spent a long time eating every crumb, since they were ravenous after their swim. The fish was cooked to perfection, as were the island-grown turnips.

After they finished, Ian paid with his MasterGuard, and the men ambled back to Horseshoe Bay. Since they'd rented their umbrella and loungers for the day, they still had those little comforts to look forward to. As Ian had suggested, they stretched out on the recliners and enjoyed gazing at the sea, as well as the beachgoers, dressed in a rainbow of colors. Ian couldn't resist reaching out and running a strand of Quinn's hair through his fingers; the humidity had made his ordinarily straight hair curl enticingly. The sun was trying its best to broil them, but the umbrella kept them relatively cool.

When about an hour had passed, they decided to go back in the water and put on more sunscreen. This time, they had fun playing with an orange beach ball, while thigh-deep in the ocean. First, they used it as a volleyball, batting it back and forth; then, they had a game of catch with it. After quite a while, Quinn threw it aside, so they could swim.

Breaststroke, backstroke, crawl, even butterfly: the men put on a tutorial of perfect Jedi form with their swimming. Many people were sunbathing on the beach now, so they had enough space for racing, and they did justice to it. Quinn, with his gigantic wingspan, won the butterfly competition, while Ian won the breaststroke race, no contest.

After their last race, they went ashore, where they dried off and took another breather. Quinn got his phone out of the duffel and took a picture of Ian with his hair sticking up every which way, making both of them chuckle. It was almost 4:40 by now, so they'd have to leave soon, if they wanted to have a Bermudian dinner before the ship left port. They rested under the umbrella for about twenty minutes, then headed for the changing rooms, where they rinsed off and dressed, with Ian making a point to comb his hair afterwards.

Quinn turned around, wanting to burn the picture of Horseshoe Bay into his retinas forever.

Ian whispered, "I love it here, but our real paradise is at home."

Quinn could only agree, as he kissed Ian softly, uncharacteristically forgetting all about the people around them.

The men decided to eat at King's Wharf this time, so they would be near the QO2, in case they were running late. They had to wait a few minutes for the bus, but it got them to the wharf on time. Strolling leisurely along the dockside street, they found a restaurant that appealed to them, called The Ripened Peach.

After about a ten-minute wait, a hostess seated them by a window looking out at the wharf. They could see the QO2, as well as the bustling tide of people on the dock. The waitress walked over with a hand-written menu with today's specials, and when they saw crabmeat au gratin and banana crumble for dessert, they just had to get them.

The men made a game of trying to spot their cabin on the Aloha Deck from their vantage point. Quinn was pretty positive that he'd pinpointed it, but there was no way to be sure.

"So, what do you think of Horseshoe Bay compared to Magens Bay?" asked Ian.

Quinn pondered for a moment. "Well, I like the pink sand better here, but St. Thomas had that cookout on the beach that was so much fun. How about you?"

"I agree with you about the sand, but they didn't have snorkeling equipment to rent, like they did in St. Thomas," Ian said. "I really enjoyed it there."

"Both beaches are wonderful, lad," said Quinn.

Ian grinned at his husband. "Spoken like the world-class diplomat you are, my love."

"Stuff and nonsense..." Quinn was interrupted by the arrival of their crab dish, which had him in full drool.

And Ian took one look at his face, with an expression of delight normally reserved for their bedroom, and wordlessly forked over a third of his heaping portion.

"Thanks, laddie. Mmmmmm!" Quinn managed to get out before he descended upon the defenseless crab.

Of course, the men ate in silence after that, except for the occasional happy sigh. This was their favorite meal yet. And they still had dessert left to come.

Finally, Quinn put down his fork, after cleaning his plate so completely that it almost didn't need to be washed. "The last time I had crabmeat au gratin *almost* as good as this, I was in college, and my folks treated me to dinner on Parents' Weekend."

"I've never tasted anything this wonderful, with certain exceptions." Ian's sparkling eyes made it clear just what those exceptions were, but Quinn didn't mind the innuendo, here on vacation hundreds of miles away from home.

Their wedding rings shone in the sunlight streaking in from the window, and they exchanged married smiles. After a few minutes, the waiter came by with the banana crumble. Before now, their favorite of this type of dessert had been apple cobbler, but they had to revise their opinions after one bite of this heavenly confection.

"I couldn't have had a better time," Quinn said.

Ian nodded. "Me, too, ma gradh."

Quinn paid the bill tonight, then they headed back to the QO2. On the way to the ship, they saw a circular stone structure ahead of them and were intrigued, so they stopped to read the plaque nearby. The archway turned out to be a moon gate, and legend had it that if a couple walked through, especially newlyweds, it would give them good luck. Of course they had to step through, and they even added a kiss, as natural as breathing.

They smiled at each other as they reached the QO2. Just in time, because the ship's bell sounded the 'All Aboard' as they were climbing the gangway. They made a quick trip to their cabin to stow their duffels and use the facilities.

"What's in store for tonight?" asked Quinn as they were going out the door.

Ian said, "We're just in time for the show -- Irish step-dancing."

Quinn's eyes crinkled. "I'm looking forward to it."

The men got to the theater about ten minutes early for the 8 o'clock performance, so they were able to score seats in the center of the orchestra section. Quinn did his usual check to make sure he wasn't blocking anyone's view and settled down in his seat next to Ian. The music started to play, and Quinn was delighted to hear the strong chords of 'Reel Around the Sun'. He'd been hoping they would do this dance, since he had happy memories of Jason Brown skating to this music at the U.S. National Championships in 2014, when it had become an instant classic.

The music was still just as rousing, and the dancers were energetic young men and women. The audience clapped to the beat, enthralled with every bit of intricate footwork. The troupe got a standing ovation after they completed the last move. Then, it was on to the rest of 'Riverdance', all of it thoroughly charming. At the end of the show, the applause was thunderous and well-deserved.

The men were exhausted from a day of delights, so they walked back to their cabin, took off their clothes, used the facilities, and went to sleep right after they kissed goodnight.

* * *

On Monday, the QO2 would be at sea the whole day, continuing the long voyage back to New Jersey. So the men slept in, awakening at 8:22 a.m., ready for another room-service breakfast of guava juice and mini blueberry and corn muffins. It made sense to have a light start to the day, with all of the delicacies yet to come.

They ate on the balcony, gazing at the water streaming by. They were super-comfortable in their Luke tees and sweatshorts, while they basked in the sunshine.

"What would you like to do today?" asked Quinn.

Ian's eyes shone. "Well, definitely the high tea at 4 o'clock." He still had wonderful memories of Quinn decimating the dainties in Colonial Williamsburg and looked forward to him doing it again here.

"Ah, I can't wait." Quinn all but rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"And before that, there's a domino tournament, a movie, and swimming," Ian said.

Quinn smiled at him. "When does the tournament start?"

Ian looked at his watch. "In 14 minutes. Would you like to go?"

"Yes, let's." Quinn finished his guava juice and got up to use the facilities.

After Ian had used them as well, they left the stateroom to walk to the game room on Boca Deck, where the domino tournament was taking place. There were sixteen people there, including the professors, so the cruise director split them up into tables of four for a quarter-final match. The men were paired with a young couple from Vermont, Rayna and Flynn, and they made pleasant small talk until the game began.

Quinn got the six-six tile, so he started the action. Ian had three sixes of his own, so they easily won the first round. Then it was Rayna's turn; she began with a four-four, and this time she and her husband had the luck of having most of the fours, giving them the win. The score was now 27-21, with the men leading. The game stayed close, until finally Ian and Quinn won 100-97. They were able to beat a new team in the semi-finals, 100-82, and went on to the finals, to win it 100-95.

Flush with the exhilaration of victory, and a $50 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble, they headed out into the sunshine.

"Whoo! That was fun," Ian said, exhilarated by their win.

Quinn swung an arm around his shoulders, feeling his lad's excitement. "How about going for a jog now? You need to burn off some of this energy."

"Let's do it," answered Ian.

The Boca Deck also had a track, so they headed over there to start jogging. It was 64 degrees Fahrenheit, partly cloudy, with a light breeze, so the conditions were ideal. They were smart to exercise in the morning, before it became too hot. They completed five laps around the outside of the deck, and that made Ian considerably more mellow.

"A swim sounds good right about now," Quinn said, smiling when Ian reached up to brush away a droplet of sweat on his forehead.

Then the men went back to their stateroom to shower and change into their trunks. They didn't even bother going to the pools on the main deck, knowing that they would be jam-packed; instead, they went to the Spa Deck, but even there, all the small pools were taken. Ian's Force-enhanced vision helped him spot a couple leaving a hot tub, all the way across the deck.

They raced over and got into the Jacuzzi with sighs of bliss, from the warm water rushing around them. Now that they had one at home, it wasn't as exotic anymore, but their soak was just as pleasurable.

"Seems like every single passenger wants to swim at the same time," Ian said.

Quinn nodded. "Too true, lad. We're lucky to be here." He stretched out his arms luxuriously The tub was bigger than theirs, but it couldn't quite fit another couple, fortunately for them.

The men lolled about happily in the bubbling water, enjoying the massaging action. They stayed in for about 15 minutes, ever considerate of the others who wanted to use the tub. After getting out, they felt as relaxed as aikido left them, with a glow of well-being that was shining in the Force.

They took turns washing off in one of the deck's showers, and picked up towels from the pile close by. While they walked back to the stateroom to dress for lunch, they talked about where to eat.

Ian said, "I'd like to try Statura's; I've heard it serves excellent Italian food." 

"Good idea, laddie. A little something different," said Quinn.

They dressed in record time, since they were hungry, and went to the Tortuga Deck, where they found the restaurant nestled away amidships. Since there was a surcharge for eating there, it wasn't crowded, even at lunchtime. They were seated by the host at an intimate booth for two, with a reproduction of 'The School of Athens' by Raphael on the wall across from them.

Their waitress handed them a sheet of creamy paper, with today's delights written in calligraphy. As soon as they saw the Veal Saltimbocca, they had to order it. Veal had been their main course at both of their wedding receptions, with this very dish served at the Sunset Ballroom. It came with mushroom raviolini and broccoli florets in pesto.

"Can't believe this is the first Italian meal on our vacation," said Ian.

Quinn chuckled. "Doesn't seem possible."

"Well, we *were* sidetracked by all of that fish." Ian's tone was dry.

While the men were waiting for their meal, they sipped their water and dipped their warm garlic-herb rolls in olive oil. Ian stopped after two rolls, because he wanted to save room for his entree. He was right.

There were three pieces of veal on each plate, swimming in white-wine sauce, with generous amounts of raviolini and broccoli on the side. Quinn made himself slow down to relish every morsel. Of course, Ian gave him an extra piece of veal and some broccoli, but he couldn't resist poaching a few raviolini.

"Completely delectable," Ian raved.

When they were finally done, the waiter came over to tell them the desserts of the day and to clear their plates. The men mulled over the choices, deciding on tortoni and a piece of Italian rum cake.

Quinn said, "What would you like to do after this?"

"Are you in the mood to see 'Nora'?" Ian asked.

Quinn nodded. "Sure, m'lad."

Their desserts came and were just as luscious as the rest of the meal. The rum cake was particularly good, and Ian decided to ask Kathy to pick one up for them in that heavenly bakery on 44th Street in Manhattan, a few blocks from the younger Prentices' apartment. After Ian paid with his MasterGuard, they strolled to the theater on the Windjammer Deck.

This time, they got seats on the aisle, about fifteen rows away from the screen. Quinn performed his usual ritual of looking behind him to ensure he wasn't blocking anyone's view, but no one was there now. He eased back in his chair, ready to enjoy the film. Almost two hours later, the men emerged from 1904 Dublin, fascinated by their visit.

As they strolled to their stateroom, they chatted about it.

"Nice to see a biography of James Joyce, but movies are so lax about realism." Ian sighed.

"Apparently, it's all the same to the director if you're Irish or Scottish," Quinn said wryly. "Here, a Scottish actor was cast to play Joyce..."

"...and remember in 'Rob Roy', they had an Irish actor play the lead," Ian chimed in.

Both of them dissolved into laughter. When they got back to their cabin, it was time to change for high tea. Luckily, they could keep on their tuxedos most of the evening, since after tea, they had the Captain's Party on the Fiesta Deck before dinner. They brushed their teeth, shaved, and took turns in the shower, then dressed in their tuxes.

The men took the elevator to the Windjammer Deck and walked to the piano room, where an English high tea was being served. A pianist played Handel's Water Music in the background. They were given a table with a crisp white tablecloth, linen napkins, and an assortment of miniature preserves on a small tray. Then their waitress brought over first a pot of Earl Grey tea and cups, then fresh-baked scones and crumpets, along with tiny cucumber and watercress sandwiches. There were even little fruit tarts and petits fours for afters.

Quinn was in heaven, eating the little dainties as if they were M&Ms. And Ian was in heaven, as well, watching his husband eating the delicacies with an indulgent smile as he nibbled his own. Fortunately, their waitress was indulgent, too, bringing over additional treats for them without Quinn having to ask her.

When they finished, they listened to the music for a while, then headed to the Captain's Party amidships. Luckily, there were no hors d'ouevres to tempt them here, just Bahama Mamas and bowls of nuts. The pianist played incidental music while they circulated around the room. The photos taken at the cocktail party were displayed on racks by the piano. The men found their picture after a few minutes and decided to buy a copy, to join the photos from their other cruises on their teak bookcase at home. While they were at it, they did their souvenir shopping, buying Bermudian perfume for the ladies in the family, Gosling's Rum for the men, and a beautiful carving of the Great Kiskadee for Lelia.

They went outside to the deck and strolled for a long time, working up an appetite for dinner and enjoying the sea air. Since there were no reserved meal times, they delayed eating for a couple of hours by going back to the game room and playing Monopoly and Scrabble.

Then the men were ready for tonight's feast, with a Mardi Gras theme. The dining room was a fantasy of purple, green, and gold, and the wait staff wore matching outfits. The hostess seated them on the starboard side near the bow of the ship. All of their favorites were on the menu -- crawfish etouffee, Andouille sausage and shrimp gumbo, bronzed catfish, and mashed sweet potatoes. They ordered the gumbo for their appetizer, the crawfish and catfish as entrees, with sweet potatoes on the side. The Doberge layer cake looked perfect for dessert. The waiter brought a pitcher of water this time, along with their glasses, a silent concession to the spiciness of the food.

The men looked at each other in eager anticipation; the last time they'd had a meal like this, it was at The Dune Sea in Greenwich Village, on a double date with Kathy and Monty. Their waiter came over with the soup, and it looked just as wonderful as they remembered. It was spicy but just enough to tickle their tastebuds; both of them made short work of it.

"Isn't the show tonight an exhibition of Bermudian salsa dancing?" asked Quinn.

Ian nodded. "And I can't wait to see their moves." The gymnast in him appreciated the agility involved.

Their main course came, and they used their negotiating skills to determine who got what. Quinn ended up with most of the catfish and about a third of the crawfish, while Ian had the rest. But since Quinn finished his plate first, Ian took pity on him and spooned over more crawfish with a grin. The herb and spice blend in the sauces was out of this galaxy.

Just when the men thought it couldn't get any better, the waiter brought them two slices of Doberge cake, which was inspired by the Hungarian Dobos torte. It had eight thin layers, alternating between angel-food and devil's-food cake, which were separated by buttercream icing and pudding. The cake was covered by vanilla icing, over which melted dark chocolate was poured. It almost rivaled their chocolate-mocha-hazelnut wedding cake.

The men almost didn't want to eat it, since it was such a work of culinary art. Ian took out his phone to snap a picture before his first bite. It actually tasted just as good as it looked. Even Quinn ate slowly to savor every crumb. When they gazed at each other afterwards, the men had the same satisfied expressions they wore after making love.

Quinn looked at his Aldera watch. "The show starts in 12 minutes. Perfect timing if we leave now."

"Sounds like a plan," said Ian.

The theater was on the same deck, so it only took a couple of minutes to get there. It was already crowded; the only seats available were in the balcony. Quinn slid down in his seat, because an elderly gentleman was right behind him.

The salsa dancers came onto the stage in a flurry of brightly colored ruffles, which reminded Quinn of a parrot's plumage. There was a lot of hip action, the dancers moving sensuously over the stage. The footwork was intricate and compelling, as the troupe cast their spell over the audience. Ian was watching with a knowledgeable eye, impressed with their skill and grace. He was glad when they got a well-earned standing ovation, with Quinn and him clapping enthusiastically along with the rest.

The men ambled back to their cabin hand in hand, ready for some hip action of their own. They hung up their shirts and tuxes, then stripped off their boxer-briefs and socks. They took a shower together that was more sensual than the dancing. While still drying off, Quinn got their berry lube from the drawer and put it under his pillow. The steward had already turned the covers down.

They got into bed, and Quinn pulled Ian on top of him. "What's your pleasure tonight, laddie mine?"

"Feeling you come inside me," Ian breathed in an intimate whisper. He could feel Quinn hardening more against his stomach with every word.

Quinn gave him a passionate kiss, while he swept his huge hands over Ian's back and hips. "My pleasure, too," he murmured.

The men kissed and kissed, as their hands caressed skin that grew hotter by the moment. Ian was moaning into his husband's mouth by now, loving the sensation of Quinn's precome drizzling onto his belly. Meanwhile, Quinn was driven out of his mind by the uncontrollable wiggling of Ian's hips.

Quinn knew he had to do something _now_ , or they would come from the delicious frottage alone. "Lad, the lube," he groaned out urgently.

Ian couldn't answer immediately; he was still wriggling his way to orgasm. It felt too good to stop.

Reaching his right hand under the pillow, Quinn pulled out the lube. It was the only thing that could have stopped Ian's hips. He made a monumental effort to hold still and sat back to give Quinn room to coat himself, then Ian, for entry. Quinn kissed him on the bridge of his nose, a ritual never forgotten, and moved his lad into the perfect position for a rollicking ride.

Quinn's cock drove home in one great thrust, which put them just at the verge of coming, as they almost had earlier. They shuddered together, already drenched in sweat. Jedi serenity helped Quinn hang on, so he and his lad could enjoy every Moment of pleasure their love would give them. He started to thrust, letting Ian's cries wash over him, without putting him over the edge.

It was a good thing, too, because Ian went wild on top of him, bucking and shouting in complete abandon. "Qui, Qui, Qui!"

Quinn somehow managed to corral his Force of nature long enough to give him a kiss, and that was it. Both of them erupted into orgasm, shivering into each other for a delicious instant, before Ian fell on top of Quinn and stayed there, still trembling.

"Grah mo chree," (my sweetheart) crooned Quinn, petting his laddie softly. He could feel Ian relaxing under his hands.

"Oh, Quinn, I love you so much," Ian whispered, this time because he was hoarse from shouting.

"Ta mo chroi istigh ionat, Ian." (My heart is in you) Quinn's simple declaration made Ian melt into him even further.

Tender kisses settled them down all the more, and they drowsed in each other's arms, unwilling to break apart to wash up. Quinn barely had enough energy to do a cursory clean-up with a handful of tissues and to pull the sheet over them before he nodded off.

"Fourteen years, and I still can't get enough of you," Ian marveled as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The men awoke the next morning, stuck to one another in all the right places. They disentangled with regretful smiles.

"Be back in a few," said Ian, walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth, shave, and shower.

Quinn spent the time alone reliving every bit of last night's lovemaking, with a Jedi eye for detail. When Ian came back to give him a kiss, all fresh-faced and edible, Quinn took his turn in cleaning up.

Ian ordered a room-service breakfast while Quinn was showering. This time, they had lattes and orange-pineapple juice, along with 12-grain bagels with vegetable cream cheese and lox.

The QO2 was already in port at Cape Liberty, so they watched the bustle of activity on the dock while eating. Their Jedi telepathy kicked in as both of them thought,

"Best cruise ever!"


End file.
